it's what you want to know
In 2022, The Haverford School called it a “generational opportunity.” Now it’s moving on.
When the boys’ school bought the former Presbyterian Children’s Village/Gemma Services property on Roberts Road in Bryn Mawr, the vision was expansion — playing fields, maybe new academic buildings, a satellite campus less than three miles from its landlocked Lancaster Avenue home.
Sweet news, Western Main Line. The Bryn Mawr bakery so popular it rents a U-Haul to distribute 2,500 Thanksgiving pies each year is heading your way.
The Bakery House has leased the former Sushi Nami building next to the Paoli Nudy’s and expects to open Sept. 28.
After 11 years as a daytime café, The Buttery is now whipping up dinner.
Same seasonal, scratch-made fare, largely sourced from local farms and producers.
Same order-at-the-counter service.
It’s BYOB for now but that could soon change.
It won’t be Enoteca Tredici reincarnated but fans of that dearly departed spot should raise a glass to this news: always bustling Alessandro’s is coming to the ill-fated Il Fiore in Bryn Mawr Village.
A whole lotta love and a wee bit ‘o honey are the secret sauce fueling Bryn Mawr’s new Love & Honey Fried Chicken.
Locally owned and operated by a Berwyn family, this is Love & Honey’s first Main Line store and second franchise location with many more en route, including one in King of Prussia.
A flotilla of foodies, influencers and regular folk have long deemed the original Love & Honey in Northern Liberties Philly’s finest fried chicken.
It’s a mystery that’s consumed this happy hamlet for months: Why, oh why, is a local residential developer gobbling up historic buildings in the heart of Gladwyne Village? And they’re all on opposite sides of the street, so what the heck is he planning?
The Main Line’s independent bookstores have surmounted a sea of challenges: Amazon, e-books, the pandemic.
But then, out of nowhere, a tidal wave: Barnes & Noble crashed ashore in Bryn Mawr on Feb. 12, returning to the very same building it had left 18 years ago.
Barnes & Noble is getting a do-over. Eighteen years after it closed, the bookstore chain is reopening in the same building.
The chorus to save Oakwell – Stoneleigh’s Villanova “sister” – from school district buzzsaws is practically deafening.
And we’re not just talking about cars honking for picketers outside Lower Merion School District’s Ardmore offices each Friday.
On Sept. 7, three days after her sons started the new school year at Radnor Elementary, Heidi Diskin ended her life.
She was 44.
We share this with you because Heidi would want us to.
“One hundred percent, she would want her story told,” said her husband, J.D., in a phone interview. “My hope is that what happened to Heidi can be a teachable moment. As terrible as this situation is, it’s an even worse tragedy if it doesn’t help others.”
To family and close friends, Heidi’s suicide was a sucker punch – a heart-wrenching coda to 20 years of pain.
To those less close, it seemed, well, inexplicable.
Because Heidi had made mental health advocacy and suicide prevention her life’s work. She’d started a brain health foundation, she’d spoken to countless groups, she’d even hosted a cable TV show about mental health. How could Heidi Diskin – of all people – have succumbed herself?
